Promise Me Light (36 page)

“God, Maddie, I’m not going anywhere. I love you too. I’ve
always loved you. I might be a screwed up bastard but I can’t live
without you.”

His hands delved into my hair to grasp me tighter. “I’ll never
leave you again, Maddie,” he said, his lips brushing across mine.

“Promise me,” I whispered.

“With all my heart.”

Winter came and went. By some miracle, we survived. Many days we
didn’t think we would. The weather was cold and sometimes harsh.
Uncompromising and hell bent on destroying us. But we were strong. We
had each other. We had hope and determination. With those things, we
could survive.

Cash and Gavin started making trips to a neighboring town, one that
was free of terrorists. At first, they traded for food. It was what we
needed most. After a while they started trading for other items;
gasoline, clothes, baby supplies. The town was a big one and had become
a refuge camp of sorts. They said it was a gold mine of supplies, a
center for trade where people came from miles around to barter. I would
have liked to go but I was too pregnant, the trip too dangerous this
close to my due date.

Not only did Gavin and Cash bring back supplies, they brought back
news as well. They learned that the militia had been right; the U.S. was
winning, forcing the insurgents out. It was a slow process and the
fighting still continued but there was hope on the horizon. Hope for
peace.

But it hadn’t found me yet.

~~~~

I ran a hand over my stomach, feeling the baby kick beneath my palm.
Staring up at the ceiling, I glided my fingers over my eighth month
belly, trying to calm the baby down.

For the past three nights, he or she had kept me awake, moving
nonstop at night. I had laughingly told Ryder that the baby took after
me and liked to dance. He didn’t think it was very funny, reminding me
how I danced with him the night in the club. I had blushed, remembering
being pressed up against his body while the music blasted around us. Not
caring about anything else but each other.

Suddenly, an ache hit the middle of my back, wrapping around my hips.
I tried to change positions but it didn’t help.

When I had a similar pain this morning, I mentioned it to Janice. She
had given me a quick exam and said everything looked good, warning me
that it might have been Braxton Hicks. I made her promise not to tell
Ryder because he would blow a gasket with worry and he had enough right
now to worry about.

We were all worried. Gavin, Brody, and Eva were supposed to be home
two days ago, but they still hadn’t returned. They had left almost a
week ago, heading to town both for supplies, and to look for Eva and
Brody’s parents. I prayed that they found them alive and safe but I
had learned that in this new world, not every prayer was answered.

Cash had stayed behind, refusing to leave me so close to my delivery
date. Yesterday, he had decided to move in with Janice and Roger, giving
Ryder and me some much needed time alone.

Feeling uncomfortable again, I turned on my side. My stomach pressed
up against Ryder, his skin hot against mine. The sheet was tangled
around his waist, leaving his chest bare. Reaching out, I traced the
lines of his tattoos, inky black against his skin. His eyes opened, the
lids lifting slowly. Glancing over at me, he smiled.

“You’re awake?” he asked, reaching out to pull me close.

“Yes,” I answered, running my hand over the muscles of his
abdomen.

“Hell, Maddie, keep going,” he whispered, his hand plunging into
my hair.

I smiled, my fingers lightly skimming over his belly button.

The baby kicked again, this time pushing against Ryder’s side.

“Is he at it again?” he asked, his hand going to my very rounded
stomach.

“Yes,
she’s
very active,” I said,
adamant that it was a girl.

Ryder chuckled as his fingers spread over my belly button, feeling
the baby move in me.

“You need anything?” he asked, his lips against the top of my
head.

An ache started in my back, one that almost made me squirm. A weird
tightness gripped my stomach, squeezing me. I pushed myself to a sitting
position, needing to move.

“Maddie?” Ryder asked, concerned.

“I’m fine,” I lied. “I just need to walk around.” Sometimes
when I was uncomfortable at night or unable to find a good position to
sleep in, I would walk around the house. It seemed to calm the baby and
help my body relax.

I threw my legs over the edge of the bed, my bare feet landing on the
wooden floor. Ryder’s long shirt hit me at the knee, soft against my
skin and smelling like him.

“I’ll go with you,” Ryder said, sitting up.

I glanced over my shoulder at him. My breath hitched at what I saw.
His hair was in his eyes, messy as usual. His jaw was covered in a sexy
stubble. I knew it would be rough against my fingers and would tickle my
skin. I blushed, remembering how many times I had experienced that
feeling.

The muscles of his arms flexed as he tossed the blankets off his
legs, leaving his six-pack bare. He was as sexy now as he had been a
year ago when I confronted him in my apartment bathroom. The words he
said to me that day are forever etched in my mind.
‘Years, Maddie, I’ve wanted you for years.’

And now he had me forever.

I stood up and stretched my back, trying to work out the kinks.

“Maddie?”

“I’m okay, Ryder. Stay here,” I said.

“You sure?” he asked, eyeing me as I stood up.

I nodded. He looked tired. Sometimes, the nightmares still bothered
him. He would wake up angry, sweating and looking for something to
punch. I would hold him as he shook, waiting for the memories to
disappear and the panic to leave. But those nights were becoming fewer
and fewer.

I knew Ryder watched as I walked out of the bedroom, his eyes
assessing every move I made. Lately, he had become terrified, thinking
of me delivering the baby. Rarely did he let me out of his sight for
every long.

In the kitchen I lit a candle in the middle of the table. Needing to
do something with my hands, I poured a cup of clean, sterilized creek
water. It felt cool going down my throat. I would never forget the
feeling of walking down a deserted road, thirsty and sunburned. Trying
to get home to my father. Ryder by my side, keeping me safe. Trying to
resist each other and losing.

When I felt the baby move, I walked around the room, my hips swaying
with the movement. I glanced outside when the clouds moved, letting
moonlight stream in through the window.
Maybe if I used
the outhouse, I’ll feel better.

I grabbed a flashlight that we always kept by the backdoor.
I won’t bother Ryder. I’m just going a few feet from the
house.
I had made trips to the outhouse alone too many times to
count since becoming pregnant.

Opening the backdoor, cool air wrapped around my bare legs, making me
shiver. Winter was slowly leaving. The days were warmer but the nights
still were cold.

On bare feet I padded down the porch steps, the flashlight lighting
the way. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted. The sound sent a
chill up my spine but I didn’t stop.

The grass was wet beneath my feet, sticking up between my toes.
Hurrying, I crossed to the outhouse, looking over my shoulder once when
I thought I heard something.

When I was finished, I closed the wooden door behind me and started
walking back toward the house. I was only a few steps from the porch
when a chill ran up my spine. Glancing around, I suddenly felt uneasy.
Something felt wrong as if someone was watching me. I lifted my foot to
step on the first porch step when everything came crashing down.

Someone grabbed me from behind, knocking the gun from my fingers. I
screamed but a dirty hand immediately covered my mouth, cutting off any
sound. I struck out with my fists, hitting the stranger in the head once
or twice. In response, a strong arm wrapped around my neck, cutting off
my air supply.

I started clawing at the stranger’s forearms, my nails digging into
skin and leaving bloody marks behind. I tried pulling his arm away,
desperate for air, but his arm was tight around my neck.

“Hello. Remember me,” a deep voice said in my ear, sending
shivers racing along my spine.

I instantly recognized the voice. It was the same terrorist who had
shown up here looking for Ryder a few months ago. The same one that
threatened to return.

He squeezed my neck with his forearm, making my eyes bulge and my
face turn red. I clawed at his arm again, desperate to get away.

Ignoring my struggling, he squeezed tighter. “Now, we’re going to
walk very slowly toward the woods. Understand?” he asked, his English
perfect. “You will not make a sound.”

I nodded as best as I could, my heart pounding out of control.

“I will let go of your neck if you do as I say.”

I nodded again, my windpipe starting to feel constricted.

“Good.” His arm dropped away from my neck. Grabbing both of my
wrists, he pulled my hands behind my back, keeping one of his hands over
my mouth.

“Now come,” he instructed, nudging me to start walking.

I did as he said, my legs feeling like rubber. His hand on my mouth
pressed my lips into my teeth painfully.
If he would
just loosen his hand enough, I could bite him.
I planned my
escape as he pushed me along, knowing if he got me in the woods, I was
as good as dead.

We were halfway across the yard when he stopped and turned me
around.

“I really don’t want to hurt you, you know. You are my
insurance,” he said. “I will remove my hand if you promise to be
quiet.”

I nodded, needing oxygen desperately.

Slowly, he lowered his hand. I breathed big gulps of air deeply into
my lungs.

The stranger’s eyes dropped down to my very pregnant stomach. I
wanted to cover myself from his gaze but he still held my wrists
tightly.

I swallowed hard, my throat hurting. Another ache started in my back
but I ignored it.
It will have to wait…

“What do you want?” I asked, glancing back at the house.

The man cocked his head to one side. Without answering, he spun me
around and pushed me to start walking.

“I have come for your man. I have to take him back,” he answered
from behind me.

“No! Leave him alone!” I pleaded. We were almost to the woods
now. I needed to stall him.

“We haven’t done anything to you.”

“Your man killed my leader. Because of that, he must die.”

I stumbled as pain radiated up my back, almost bringing tears to my
eyes. The man didn’t seem to notice.

“I will tell you this so you understand. I was part of a sleeper
cell, set into place many years ago. I have been in the United States
for seven years. I met an American and fell in love with her. I tried to
protect her from this war, this violence,” he spit, in rage, “but I
couldn’t.”

His hands tightened around my wrists, making me cringe and bit my
lip.

“And how did my country repay me for my service? They took my wife
and child. They are holding them hostage, just like the Americans they
capture. In exchange for my family’s release, they want your man
alive. So I will bring him to them and get my family back,” he said.
“You are my bait.”

I stopped and whirled around. My heart started hammering and my palms
turned sweaty.

“You don’t have to do this. Please,” I begged.

He opened his mouth to respond but never got the chance. A bullet
whizzed past our heads, a warning shot that almost singed my hair.

“Let her go,” a deadly voice said.

The terrorist whirled around, using my body as a shield. Ryder stood
a few feet from me, a rifle in his hand. His feet were spread apart as
he peered down the barrel of the gun, ready to fire off another
shot.

“There you are, my friend. I was wondering when you would find
us,” the stranger said, squeezing my wrists painfully.

Ryder chambered another round into the rifle, his focus only on the
stranger. “I’m here now. Let her go.”

The stranger let me go. Just like that, I was free. I ran to Ryder,
his free hand stretching out to grab me. Pushing me behind his back, he
placed himself in front of me as he kept the gun pointed on the
terrorist.

The man held up his hands, surrendering.

It can’t be that easy.

“Don’t move, Maddie,” Ryder said. Removing a pistol from his
waistband, he pressed it into my hand. “If something happens, take off
running for Mom and Dad’s got it?”

“Yeah,” I said, taking the gun and clicking the safety off.

Ryder continued to peer down the rifle barrel as he slowly approached
the man. I stood still, watching as the man shifted from one foot to
another, his eyes on Ryder. I didn’t trust him for a second.

“Kill me. Put me out of my misery,” he spit, his chin thrusting
toward Ryder. “I am nothing.”

Ryder didn’t respond. I saw the muscles of his back flex and his
arms tighten. He stopped a few feet from the man, the gun aimed at the
man’s head.

“Do it,” the man hissed, looking down the barrel with no fear.
“DO IT!”

Suddenly, pain hit me, running up my spine. This time it was unlike
anything I had ever felt before. I sucked in a breath, doubling over.
That small intake of air echoed through the night, changing
everything.

Ryder glanced over his shoulder at me.

The stranger saw his chance. His hand swung up, hitting the side of
Ryder’s rifle. The impact knocked the gun to the side, away from him.
That’s when the man’s fist connected with Ryder’s stomach.

Ryder doubled over for a second but was quick to recover. But by
then, the stranger had the upper hand.

I screamed as the man grabbed the gun out of Ryder’s hands. In a
seamless move that only a professional soldier would make, the man
flipped the rifle around and pointed it at Ryder.